Notions
by daiyaonna
Summary: To the norm, it sounded nothing like chess, but everything eventually melted down into shougi basics for Shikamaru. ShikaHina


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please give credit where it's due. Thanks.  
Warning(s): Note beta-ed, in need of sequel (being written)  
Author's Notes: First attempt at all the characters in this fic. Written for **Adrien**.

* * *

**_Notions _**

They called it the_ kissing tree._

Its history told no stories as there were none to tell but simple truths: a child's fairytale. Konoha, in such times, remained a place of little fabrication and cultivation unless one's motivation was to become an aspiring shinobi; there was little time for the inbred genes of sloth.

Yet, somehow, the tree rose above the importance of training the next generation of ninja elite and respected citizens of Hi no Kuni (1).

Set in seclusion, Nara Shikamaru lost his lips' virginity beneath the branches of the smirking oak, unsuspecting and checkmated by the mouth pushed to his own as he lay reclining against sturdy wood. Perhaps, in his well-organized thought pattern, he'd forgotten to calculate such a move. The idea of circumstance just hadn't _occurred_ to him, how a tree earned a name as redundant as _kissing_.

Shikamaru was barely eleven.

He visited the place often, however, somewhat curious as to the rules of Konoha's _kissing tree_ and why he'd never seen his assailant. The observation took him little time to understand how it worked, juvenile in its simplicity to someone like Shikamaru. Incidentally, it reminded him of a shougi match.

Those suspecting of free, cheap kisses waited in predetermined places, the alteration in location notifying the kisser as to what the kissee was looking for. Whoever happened across the person first obliged without so much as an exchange of greeting. Rudimentary and surprisingly mundane within the first couple glances of darkened eyes. To the norm, it sounded nothing like chess, but everything eventually melted down into shougi basics for Shikamaru.

How bothersome, he decided upon the third day of distant watching. Just like everything else. He was surprised he hadn't fled with such an internal proposal.

Eventually, through the course of a year, Shikamaru could be found in the tall grass outside the radius of the oak's base, gaze focused on the atmosphere of clouds. Though he looked relaxed, swallowing the shape of white unbidden, his eyes remained focused on the faces surrounding the marvel of mock legend. His tongue would sweep across the curve of his bottom lip on occasion, as if tasting the remembrance of his stolen first kiss.

Definitely a girl, though clumsy and just as inexperienced. Shikamaru couldn't imagine any of the guys he knew to vaguely smell of flowers and voluntarily liplock _him_. He honestly couldn't even begin to speculate what **that** would have meant.

So, he confined himself to thinking and watching and planning because anyone who acquainted themselves with him knew Nara Shikamaru was better at nothing else.

* * *

"Oi."

Chouji had chosen now to bother him, settling on the ground beside Shikamaru as he chewed on some off-brand potato chip that carried an aroma of bacon. There was a mumble of sound, mostly an acknowledgement of his friend's presence, and Shikamaru continued staring at the sky in mock fascination, keen eyes regarding the tree lazily.

He didn't know what he was looking for, most of the regulars never catching his attention; there was just…something waiting for him. Shikamaru called it a seventh sense, his shadows easily occupying the sixth slot.

"You doing something important out here?"

Shikamaru gave an idle nod of his head. "Yeah."

But he wasn't going to tell anyone, not even his best friend.

* * *

Like a good game of shougi, by the end of his observation period, Shikamaru decided action would best surrender results. His intuition about such things hadn't steered him wrong before, though the thought of moving himself back into the tree's branches almost reflected _work_.

He made it, though, impressed with his own will to follow through. Having grown remarkably bored with pretending to daydream under the swirl of soothing cloud, Shikamaru found the rustle of green leaves more thoroughly suited to the calamity of his mind.

But then a voice and walls collapsed.

"I smell indecision, eh, Akamaru." A responding yip forced Shikamaru to open his left eye, the hands resting on his chest curling into his thinking vertigo style. A toothy smile and red greeted him.

"Mm." Shikamaru really had nothing to say to Inuzuka Kiba or his _ninken_.

"Definitely girl problems," he continued, speaking to Akamaru as if Shikamaru wasn't lying on the branch adjacent to the one he crouched on. "Time for a walk, Akamaru. Later."

Shikamaru snorted complacently at the other's random comment and departure, hands returning to a flattened state against his shirt. He wasn't the one with problems, though the deliberation stated otherwise.

He sighed and went back to lazing.

* * *

Shikamaru realized he'd fallen asleep when the crack of twigs jerked him from dreams of murky candescence, the expression on his face resembling suspicion and fractional horror at his lack of preparation. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the milky branches of the oak and the face nervously staring at him.

Who--?

"I-I'm sorry!" came the exclamation, the motion of hands wringing themselves tightly catching Shikamaru's half-conscious gaze. "I d-didn't mean…"

It took a moment for his brain to process the voice, familiar and feminine, and then, "Hinata?"

"Yes." The quiet confession sent a chill up Shikamaru's spine without permission, settling in the apex between mouth and thinking process.

A single plan did not exist to Shikamaru's usually beyond-prepared mind.

_How bothersome._

"Well," he began after several moments of indecisive silence. Shikamaru slowly willed himself into a sitting position, hand rubbing at the back of his head to relieve the pressure, the style of his hair pulled tightly to his skull doing nothing to help it.

"I-I'm sorry," Hinata spoke again, clear eyes hidden by the downcast curve of her eyelids. A soft blush stained her cheeks, and Shikamaru muttered unintelligibly under his breath before forcing himself to swing his legs over the wide branch he rested on. Why had he ever thought _this_ was such a good idea?

"It's nothing." And what was he supposed to say to her that would stop her from stammering and reddening more than was her habit? Shikamaru knew little of the girl standing on the same bough as him other than the obvious trait:

She was shy.

As if truly aware of his surroundings, Shikamaru inhaled deeply with a lazy glance around. They were alone it seemed, the other children probably having dispersed at the first calls for dinner. It was…

Shikamaru breathed again, and though his senses weren't as sharp as others he could name, the aroma was distinct.

Flowers?

Unconsciously, he licked his lips when he managed to think what it could have meant, his perception irrevocably clear at that moment. Against better judgment, he'd somehow become obsessed with searching out the thief of his kissing chastity, organizing his time to look inconspicuous as he'd lounged in the grass, watching and watching but never acting. Shikamaru had even appeased curiosity by rummaging through his mother's _girly things_ in secret to discover what those scents could have been.

In the end, he'd chosen perfume, though it had already been a strongly imbedded notion.

"S-Shikamaru-kun…"

It was then Nara Shikamaru decided he'd make the sorriest ninja in existence -if he ever _made_ it that far- because Hinata was now closer. Close enough to sit. Close enough for him to smell the undeniable fragrance of mild lilac and lily.

His heart pounded, and he forgot how to **think**. Shikamaru devolved to third grade logic because he could **never** remember NOT having the capacity to contemplate his way through things.

"What?"

"I--"

He knew what she was going to say before the words stumbled from her mouth -not that _he_ was a mind reader- because he leaned in, breathing her and the way her short hair caressed her earlobes, the fine slope of her forehead. Her eyes were guarded but visibly watching him, slightly wide and skin just below them flushed beyond crimson streaks. And Shikamaru could practically hear the rhythm of her pulse since it matched his own.

Coy hesitance, a missed blink in reality, and their lips touched. Softly, awkwardly because the angle was wrong. He should have tilted his head more, possibly touched her face to execute such a kiss, but he was internally shaking at the reverie, caught between lethargy and pure shock. And he had no experience.

Not that it really mattered since she seemed to possess the same level of competence.

Shikamaru thought Hinata tasted like sun and sky though she smelled of fragrant blossoms. A ridiculous notion because no one could relate flavor to unreachable bodies. Yet, it was there, strong and overwhelming, kicking into his brain harder than a slipped punch to the head or shougi-induced trap. Giddy, crushing.

He couldn't _breathe_.

Something unknown clicked in place when Shikamaru choked on his tongue, not having the courage or resolve to even use **that** as part of this exploration of brushing mouths, and he pulled away, feeling his own face heat conspicuously. The wait, the examination, and now…

Shikamaru did what he was best at doing when in a particularly bleak situation, his intelligence blinded. He ran.

Faltering on his words, he moved from the not-so-high tree branch in a quiet drop, leaving the timid creature that was Hyuuga Hinata abandoned in muted embarrassment. Hands stuffed in his pocket and shoulders hunched, Shikamaru sulked towards home with rather quick strides, thoughts jumbled and complacent and strangely placated.

Not knowing what to do was…

Bothersome.

But behind him, Konoha's _kissing tree_ waved in the wind, beckoning him to return, understanding everything.

**End  
**

* * *

Side Note:  
(1) Fire Country 


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